Peepee Maha
2002-07-02, 5:35 p.m.



Forgive me, I feel a ramble/rant coming on. Between work-related frustrations (the RIAA, the FCC, CMJ, the whole sordid acronymic soup) and my increasing incredulity at the behavior of those in power in this country, and personal sadness (my great aunt had a huge heart attack yesterday) I am a bit restless, on edge.

Perhaps it is time to re-read Paul Loeb's "Soul of a Citizen", for I am indeed becoming more cynical as my Pollyanna reserve tank drains ever lower. What can I do? Bury my head in my ongoing domestic to-do list, hoping that the smokes clears and all will be alright? Plunge headlong into hedonism, trying to suck every last laugh, smile, or pleasurable sigh out of every minute, selfishly lolling about in a you-only-live-once lifestyle? Or "do" what I can, to try to make the planet we live on a bit more bearable, one infinitesimal step at a time? Surely there are more (and less pessimistic) options than these.

As for Aunt K., her prognosis is not good. Uncle R. (her husband) passed away about 7 years ago, and she has wanted to join him ever since then. It's strange to think of her in that way, as a person with a death wish. When I was little we would visit her out in Arizona -- she was always smiling and laughing heartily, moving busily about the house. She had a thing for faeries and would entertain us by showing us her little faerie dolls, singing out "Faaaeerrrrrrieee" (rolling her Rs with a thick German accent). Before we'd go to sleep she'd always ask my brother and I the same question: "Peepee machen?" We thought she was saying "Peepee maha?" not realizing until years later that she was saying machen (German for "to make"). Occasionally we will still ask one another: "pee pee maha?" and laugh. Now all I want to do is see her, bring her a faerie and hear her laugh again -- but at this point she is refusing treatment.

So what about some good news? Uhhhh. Ummmm. Well, sir, I tell ya -- the good news is that uhhhh. Um. Yeah.



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